


By the Help of Varric

by Whatevergirl



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatevergirl/pseuds/Whatevergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Dragon Age Kink Meme 'Bull takes Dorian out on a date' (DAI prompts, part 2 page 3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Help of Varric

When Bull came up to the library to drag Dorian out, the man objected. He was in the middle of research after all! It was important to know the name of your enemy, to gather as much information as possible… plus Dorian had seen the first white feathers of a snowfall drift past the window. He wanted to go nowhere.

The Qunari refused to take ‘No!’ for an answer. He had simply disappeared for a few minutes before returning with a heavy travel cloak and telling him to get a move on. Dorian had huffed, but obeyed the man’s command. He had pulled the plain brown cloak around his shoulders and headed down the stairs after the Iron Bull. 

Now, they were actually heading out the castle gates and into the cold weather. Bull had a backpack on, as well as a cloak of his own. Dorian wondered slightly at that, but chose not to ask. He liked looking at the other with no shirt on. He liked watching the movement of powerful muscles underneath his taut skin. 

“Where is it we are going?” He asked, trying not to sound too much like a petulant child, though he rather suspected he failed at that. 

“Come on.” Bull replied as he trekked ahead.

Dorian frowned slightly, hurrying slightly to keep up with the larger strides of the Qunari. In front of him, his breath curled visibly in the air as a testament to the cold. They were heading down though, out of the wind and along what may have been a path, though the new layer of snow that was now falling covered up any footprints that may have been there.

They headed off the path though, over boulders and down again. Dorian never thought he would be thankful to the inquisitor for the amount of time they spent scrambling and jumping behind her over rocks and up cliff faces, but apparently it had increased his level of fitness. One year ago, before he had headed down after Felix and Alexius, Dorian would never have been able to do this trip with ease. 

Now it was just the cold that he found a bother.

“Here.” Bull said, turning off to the side and heading into a cave. 

It was only a small, sheltered niche, big enough to sit inside and be protected from the worst of the weather, but shallow enough that no dangerous creatures could crawl out of the rocks behind them. At the back, Bull grabbed a bag that was half hidden and began to unpack it. 

“Sticks?” He asked, puzzled. Bull began to place them on a patch of ground that was mostly dry, quickly putting together a small campfire.

“Yeah. Light it up.”

Dorian quickly did so, moving over to huddle by it as he coaxed the fire along to eat up the wood. He felt warmer just imagining the anticipated warmth. He face was numb with the cold, as were his hands and feet. Fair to say, Dorian was not a fan of the cold southern weather. 

His attention on the fire, the smaller man did not notice Bull scowling at a piece of paper before stuff it back in his pocket and emptying out his backpack. Inside was a thick blanket, and a decent amount of food wrapped carefully in large sheets of paper to protect it from the journey. Once this was laid out according to the diagram, Bull pulled out the bottle of wine and two goblets.

“Hey, mage boy? You can warm your skirt from over here.”

“What?” Dorian turned around and gaped. “W-What is this?” he asked, voice dangerously close to failing.

“A picnic.” Bull was frowning at him, so Dorian moved over and sat down beside him. 

“Thank you.” Only just managing to stop it sounding like a question.

He rather wondered if he was caught in the midst of an unusual and vivid dream. He could normally recognise when he was in the fade, but this was bizarre enough to make him wonder. Wordlessly, he accepted the bottle and the corkscrew that Bull handed him.

It was only as he was pushing the point into the cork with freezing fingers that he caught sight of Bull reading something.

“What is that?” He asked, curious but unwilling to stop on his quest to get into the wine.

“Hm?” Bull raised his brow, but put the paper into his pocket and tried to act innocent. 

“That paper?” There was a pop as Dorian finally opened the bottle. He poured out some drink into each of the goblets and picked his own up.

“It’s nothing.” Bull replied gruffly, his hand reach out to pick up the other goblet. His large hand… Dorian felt a flush of excitement go through him as he watched the contrast of that small container in Bull’s huge hand. His mind drifted back to the conversation they had had the other week while exploring the Storm Coast with Varric and the inquisitor, and Bull’s confident words about conquering him. 

They sat in silence for a while, Dorian keeping the fire protected as the wind blew flurries of snow in an entrancing dance mere feet from where they sat. He felt himself relaxing against the Qunari’s strong arm, head lulling to the side as he nibbled at the food. 

It would have been as perfect as a picnic on a snowy day could have been if only Bull had the same reaction. Dorian didn’t know what it was that made the warrior squirm about, especially as he knew Bull was capable of sitting still for long periods of time; he had seen the man relax in the tavern after all. 

“Are you alright?” he finally asked, as his cushion shifted yet again.

“Yeah.”

The response was short, too quick in comparison to his usual laidback comments and Dorian sat up.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” He ran his now warmer fingers and thumb along his moustache, hoping to hide his expression slightly. They were out in the middle of nowhere in a cave, and Bull had fed him. He wondered if there was bad news coming, if something had happened to someone he cared about and Bull had been told to inform him… maybe that’s what the paper was, instructions on how to prepare someone for bad news. 

“Yeah, just…” Bull took a deep breath, sitting up and turning to look at Dorian. “I just…”

Dorian refrained from interrupting, nerves clogging up his throat and tensing his muscles. He had few people he cared about in the south; the inquisitor, Varric, even Cole… but most of all the Iron Bull. Was Bull leaving? Was that why he was so uncharacteristically awkward? Or worse, was he ill?

The paper came out again, and Dorian didn’t dare glance at it. What if he read something he didn’t want to? The food he had eaten led as heavy as nevarrite in his belly. 

“I… have feelings… for you.” Bull stared at the paper as though it was a dragon hunter’s legendary map. “Will you go…? What the fuck does that even say? The little shit didn’t even make his handwriting legible!”

Dorian frowned at the hissing. Feelings? What? He leaned over and plucked the paper from the other’s fingers. _Tiny, if you are ever going to get anywhere with Dorian you may need to be blunt about it_ … Blah, blah, blah, crap about how tetchy the mage could get, blah, blah, blah… _some key phrases you may need to say when talking to Sparkler. Try saying things like ‘I like you’, or something about having feelings, or if you really want to just say it, ‘I want to bend you over a table in the tavern and have my way with you’, whatever, just say something…_

His mouth dropped in surprise. 

“Wh-What?”

“Um, yeah.” Bull rubbed awkwardly at his neck and shrugged. 

“Really?” he asked, feeling slightly distant from his body and mind rushed through possibilities and problems and things to say and everything else it that might ever be relevant. He sat cross legged on the ground, mind reeling and he was overwhelmed by what he wanted to say, but unable to get anything coherent out.

“Yeah. This is a date.” Bull grinned, though his nerves were horrifically visible for a spy.

“Oh.” The memory of their conversation echoed yet again in his mind, the way he had touched himself when he had returned to his own room at Skyhold. However, it came back and settled on one particular point. “You went to Varric?”

“Nah. He left me a note. Two, actually. The second one was this.” He gestured around them.

“A picnic in the snow? No wonder his romance novels didn’t sell well.”

“The snow is only a bother for delicate, Tevinter mages, I’ll bet.” Bull snorted, their banter helping him relax.

“Yes, well…” Then he moved. 

It would have been nice he had had managed to slid seductively to his feet, saunter those few steps across to Bull and blow his mind with a stunning kiss… As it was, Dorian uncrossed his legs, found that his cold feet combined with the long cloak he was still wearing resulted in him stumbling the few steps across and then falling down without an ounce of grace into Bull’s lap.

To try and cover up his mistake, he set his hands on the large man’s shoulders and kissed him soundly. Thankfully, this part he was better at and he grinned as he felt Bull’s large hands stretch out over his back, warmth seeping from them and he was pulled against a solid chest. He couldn’t help whimpering as Bull took control of the kiss; his large, wet tongue pushing inside the mage’s mouth and exploring literally every inch while those hands groped over his body. 

“Ready to head back then?” the warrior smirked at his dazed expression.

“Now?” He asked, already wanting to return to their previous activity. 

“It’s gonna get dark soon.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” He coughed slightly and picked himself up and out the Bull’s lap. “Oh, shit.”

The wine had been spilt, most likely by him during his elegant staggering about. Disappointing, it had been nice. Still, he rescued what it could and forced the cork back into the bottle. 

\------

Back at the castle, Dorian accompanied Bull back to his room. Unlike the chargers who slept above the armoury, Bull’s room was in one of the more recently renovated areas. 

Once everything had been put down, the mage reached up and tugged at those horns, using them to pull Bull’s head down for another kiss. 

Again, the Qunari devoured his mouth, pinning him to the door as he overwhelmed Dorian utterly. The smaller man wrapped a leg around his waist, eager to do more.

“Nope.” Bull pulled back.

“What?” He gave the big man a perplexed stare.

“Inquisitor told me good mages don’t put out until the third date when there are feelings involved.”

“Who said there are feelings?” He demanded, his voice sharp as disappointment set in as a result of being denied.

“I did… and so did your face when you tripped over your own feet to get to me.”

“I… I…” he couldn’t think of a response and so just glared. “You’re going to listen to outside advice on what I ought to be doing then?”

“Yeah. You’re a good mage, Dorian. Let me woo you.”

“Woo?” 

“Boss’s phrase, not mine. I kinda like it though. You deserve to be wooed, like something precious.”

When Bull stopped joking around and became serious, his gaze could be intense. Dorian automatically wanted to object to the statement; he deserved to be wooed? A load of nonsense, to be sure, and yet it gave him a pleased thrill that stopped him complaining.

“We can have a second date soon though, right?”

Bull smirked at him, and Dorian hurried off to his own room with thoughts of being conquered.


End file.
